A sweater of eyelashes

Let's hear it for all the time well-spent working up to a mad descent.
Going through the ranks like an army of flies,
never once giving out a thought of regret.
We're all tipping up our shots and pints,
and soon we'll all be tipping up roses.
Ever-worried about catching your eye,
never once concerned about the thought of living.

Let's hear it for all the times we tried and came down like so much glass.
In fields marked of failure,
I'm still not letting go of a feeling sparked far too long ago.
Still singing that song we've always known as tears rape the stage,
never giving up hope in a life of sacrifice:
I'll go down with my ship.

And we'll sing, because it's all that we can do.